This is what the keyboard on my phone looks like. It is very efficient and easy to use, and I like it. The only time I have an issue is calling into services that require the entry of account names or passwords using an older type of phone, one where the #2 key has ABC, #3 has DEF and so on…

Calling a financial institution tonight proved to be difficult, as it took several attempts to get past the initial call responder before being put on hold for an operator. I was told that if I could enter my account name, then I will be routed to a customer service representative faster than not knowing it. Alternatively, I could enter my social security number. No thanks…

…While we do not believe that we are obligated to provide notice of this data breach to you, we are doing so as a cautionary measure. …The stolen laptops contained password protected, encrypted data which included your name, home address, phone number, social security number, date of birth, ethnicity and marital status. If you have utilizied the Employee Assistance Program (EAP) in the past, the information contained on the stolen laptops also related to the individual services provided by the EAP, including case notes and assessments, the names of the providers to whom you were referred, and the treatment plans recommended by the providers. The theft was reported to the police and the company is cooperating fully with their investigation…

Last night I took the Metro rail to Hollywood. The ride was short, but waiting for the train took a while. It’s unfortunate there are no trains from Hollywood to Santa Monica, or to LAX and BUR. Hopefully one day the transportation across the town will be easier.

The infinite possibilities each day holds should stagger the mind. The sheer number of experiences I could have is uncountable, breathtaking, and I’m sitting here refreshing my inbox. We live in trapped loops, reliving a few days over and over, and we envision only a handful of paths laid out ahead of us. We see the same things each day, we respond the same way, we think the same thoughts, each day a slight variation on the last, every moment smoothly following the gentle curves of societal norms. We act like if we just get through today, tomorrow our dreams will come back to us.

And no, I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know how to jolt myself into seeing what each moment could become. But I know one thing: the solution doesn’t involve watering down my every little idea and creative impulse for the sake of someday easing my fit into a mold. It doesn’t involve tempering my life to better fit someone’s expectations. It doesn’t involve constantly holding back for fear of shaking things up.